Penelope shifted in her corset, trying to get used to the feeling of not being able to breathe at all. In any way. She stared at herself in the mirror, for once not hating the way she looked.

She was more confident in her body. Sex with Damon every night and every morning and sometimes in the middle of the day had gotten her used to being naked around him. Since the debacle in Nigel’s office, almost a week had passed, and Damon was as remote as ever. Except when he took her to bed. Or against a wall. Or on top of his desk.

He’d taken to calling for her in the middle of the day. She would walk in thinking they were going to work and he’d immediately order her to strip, and his cock would be inside her the minute her clothes were off.

He gave her everything in those moments. And absolutely nothing but his polite charm outside of them.

It was frustrating.

“You look gorgeous,” Charlotte said, giving her a wink as she joined her in front of the dressing room mirror.

“I look half naked.” More than half really since Damon had ordered her to wear a piece of floss between her arse cheeks.

Chelsea snorted a little. “Enjoy it while you can. You’ll probably be fully naked by the end of the night.” She started to move, but her leg seemed to slip. She caught herself with a wince.

“Are you all right?” At first Chelsea had seemed dauntless to her, unapproachable, a bit cold. Over the past few days, Penelope had come to see beyond the façade to the vulnerable young woman beneath. Chelsea didn’t like to show it, but she cared about the people around her. Even though she called one of them Satan.

“It’s just my leg. Nothing new. I’m fine.” Chelsea rubbed her thigh through the PVC she wore.

“No, you’re in pain,” Charlotte said, reaching for her sister. “Are you going to take something?”

Chelsea shook her head. “No. If I start taking pills, I might not stop. I can be honest about that much. I need a session. Do you think…”

Charlotte nodded. “Yes, but Jake and Jesse aren’t here and Damon is working with Penny tonight. It’s Ian or Simon.”

Chelsea’s eyes closed briefly. “I’ll go back upstairs and try propping it up.”

Charlotte’s hands formed frustrated fists at her sides. “Damn it. Ian won’t hurt you. He even told Simon to drop his requirements when you need a session. Do you know what it takes to get that man to interfere with another Dom?”

It was hard to think of Simon Weston being a Dom. He was always so smooth and civilized. He wore designer suits, but tonight she was going to see him in leathers.

“What are his requirements?” The minute the question was out of her mouth, she wanted to call it back. It wasn’t her business, but she was so curious.

“Naked, of course.” Chelsea frowned as she straightened up and looked at herself in the mirror. “He wants to see how bad my scars are, I’m sure.”

Charlotte sighed, an annoyed sound. “I think he wants to see your breasts.”

Chelsea huffed a little. “Not so sure about that. You know how much he likes crippled girls. I’ll go talk to Satan myself. See you in a bit. Try not to get naked too fast, Pen. Make the man work for it.”

Charlotte shook her head as Chelsea walked out of the dressing room toward the dungeon floor. “She’s going to be the death of me.”

“What did she mean about crippled girls?” She seemed to struggle with minding her own business, but in the days she’d spent at The Garden, she’d settled into comfortable friendships and she was fascinated by the women around her.

Charlotte pulled out her blush and eyed Penny critically before she started applying the light pink color to her cheeks. Penny stayed still. Charlotte was an artist and Penny had recently become her favorite canvas.

“She thinks Simon is holding a torch for a woman named Avery.”

“Avery Charles?” She’d been his target in his last SIS operation. He’d infiltrated the organization she worked for, a charity that was headed by a man who dealt arms to war torn parts of Africa.

“Avery O’Donnell now. She married one of Ian’s men. She just had a baby, a boy named Aidan. Don’t move or I’ll mess up.” She swept the brush across her cheek. “Chelsea’s decided that Simon is only interested in her because she reminds him of Avery. I explained that Avery is practically a saint and she has next to nothing in common with her except that they both suffered injuries to their legs. Simon doesn’t run around trying to rub himself all over every girl on crutches, so I’m pretty sure he’s interested in Chelsea for Chelsea, though the way she’s treated him, I have no idea why. I think we can safely say he’s a masochist.”

“I remember that op. Simon liked Avery. He thought she was innocent and he wanted to make sure she didn’t get hurt, but he never mentioned a deep and abiding passion for her.”

“Well, try telling my sister that. Sometimes I think I did more harm than good by taking her with me. Open your mouth a little.” She pulled out the gloss and started painting it across Penny’s lips. Intimacy. She’d learned more about friendships and intimacies in the past week than she could have imagined. Intimacy didn’t have to mean sex. Intimacy was really revealing herself to another person, opening herself up and allowing the people around her to change her in small ways, to let their strengths become her own.

“Taking her with you when you went on the run?” She asked after the gloss was on. She’d learned the whole story of Charlotte and Ian over the last couple of days. It made her problems with Damon seem simple.

“Yes. Although I didn’t have a choice at the time. We had to get away from my father’s organization. We did not have to become international information brokers. Oh, sure, it protected us and gave us power and crap, but I think Chelsea got addicted to it. It also allowed her to hide away and live in front of her computer. I should have taken her to the park and forced her to socialize with the rest of the puppies.” She took a step back and smiled. “You look awesome. Are you ready for this?”

Damon had walked the dungeon floor with her the night before, but they hadn’t played. During the afternoons, he’d taken her to his “toy room” and allowed her to be acquainted with the various tools he employed. He’d sat beside her as Ian had presented a class on Shibari, tying up Charlotte in intricate designs.

But tonight, they were playing. She and Damon. In public.

“I’m ready.” She wasn’t so sure she could say the same about Damon. He’d enthusiastically shagged her at every opportunity, but he seemed reluctant to play. He let her sleep next to him, but still took his own shower. He’d moved into the guest bathroom, leaving the master to her. He dressed in another room as well, as though sharing the mundane intimacies of life was too much for him.

Or he was simply holding himself apart so he could leave her when he’d promised to.

She’d hoped that sex would bring them closer, but it was a false thing. It felt perfect when he held her, but the distance between them afterward was becoming impossible to handle.

She heard the insistent thud of industrial music coming from the dungeon. Trying to push aside her problems with Damon was hard, but she was determined to enjoy the night. It was her first time to play, her first time to really be in the dungeon in something other than an observational capacity.

“Come on. Let’s go see what trouble my sister’s gotten herself into. She doesn’t do well in dungeons without someone to speak for her. Seriously, I’ve thought about shoving a ball gag in her mouth before we leave the locker room at Sanctum.” Charlotte took her hand. “Why didn’t Damon give you shoes?”

Because he was being somewhat kind. That was what Penny thought. “I’m not good in high heels.”

“Or it’s because he likes you being so much smaller than him.” Charlotte always seemed to look to the most romantic explanation of everything.

They left the light of the dressing room and were immediately enclosed in the soft night of The Garden. A full moon was shining down and the jasmine was blooming from the walls.

“Gosh, it’s so pretty here.” Charlotte looked up, wonder on her face. “Do you ever wonder how a man as dark as Damon came up with this place?”

Every moment of every day. She breathed in the scents of the dungeon. Jasmine and loamy earth, and leather with the faintest hint of sweat and sex. Cobblestone was cool on the flats of her feet. Since meeting Damon, she’d become aware of the world around her in a way she hadn’t before. The ivy that wound its way across the dungeon would never have caught her attention, but now she saw it. Green, shiny, alive. It crept up the walls and across the floor, invading the space and bringing it to life.

She caught sight of Damon. He was standing beside Ian, both men in leather pants, vests, and boots.

Was she fooling herself? She wanted to cross to him, to sink to her knees in front of him and know that he wanted her there, but she worried she was setting herself up for more heartache.

And then he turned, his eyes catching hers and just for a moment, they lit up, his mouth opening a bit, his whole body turning toward hers. He shut it down, but there had been lust and something else in his eyes for that one minute. It was the same look he’d had on his face the first time he’d brought her into The Garden. Pride.

He was proud of her.

“Oh, girl, you are one of us now.” Charlotte put an arm around her and impulsively kissed her cheek. “Let’s go and join our intensely obnoxious men.”

Penny nodded. She’d gotten far more comfortable around Ian Taggart. She’d learned he was mostly bark. Oh, she was sure when the man really decided to bite he would rip a throat out, but there was an actual fully functional heart under all his cursing.

If a man like that could let go and be happily married, why couldn’t Damon? God, she’d just thought it. She’d admitted what she really wanted. To be Damon’s wife.

His face had lost that momentary wonder and was back to what she’d come to think of as his Dom face. Gorgeous, just the slightest bit chilly. He gestured for her to come to him.

She did because no matter how cold he seemed, she’d caught glimpses of the real man and she would risk heartache to find him again.

She crossed the distance between them, praying she looked natural in her very little clothing. She was used to covering up, but she’d discovered that all those clothes formed a barrier between her and the world. She’d practically turned into a nudist in the comfort of Damon’s apartments.

Damon stood at the edge of a crowd of ten or fifteen people. The Garden, she’d discovered, was very exclusive. On the nights it was open, there were never more than twenty or thirty people in the club, including the staff.

As she joined him, she heard the thud thud thud of a flogger hitting flesh. A woman was chained to the St. Andrew’s Cross, her body already sagging.

“Holy shit,” Charlotte said. Her husband’s hand covered her mouth, and he dragged her close.

“Don’t you say another word,” Taggart commanded quietly. “I had to negotiate for her. We got her down to her leggings, but I couldn’t let her leave the bra on. If Simon hit the metallic parts, it could really hurt. She’s fine. Let them be. Let them work this out without your interference.”

Simon wielded what looked to be two floggers, one in each hand. He moved to the music, allowing it to guide his strikes in a pulsing rhythm. His wrists flicked, snapping back and forth, the sound of the falls striking her skin reaching a crescendo.

It was a beautiful dance and Penny watched, utterly fascinated by the way Simon handled the scene. He stopped suddenly and ran a big palm down Chelsea’s back. He was so much larger than the brunette that his palm took up almost all the space between her shoulders. He leaned in, seeming to say something to his partner as he cupped the nape of her neck.

She simply nodded and he stepped back, his hand coming out to request another instrument. Ian stepped up, handing him what looked like a furry black glove.

“It’s called a vampire glove.” Damon whispered into her ear, dragging her against him. He slid an arm around her waist, cradling her back to his front as he quietly explained. “The material is extremely soft. Simon’s been warming her up with a deerskin flogger. Her skin is getting very sensitive. Watch.”

Simon ran the glove across her back, and Chelsea seemed to sigh and rub against it. Then suddenly she stopped, shuddering and moaning softly.

“There’s a row of metal studs hidden in the glove that Simon will manipulate to keep her off balance. They won’t cut her skin, but she will feel it. If she wasn’t so stubborn, he would run that glove all over her body and there wouldn’t be an inch of her skin that didn’t feel alive.”

Penny turned her head up, speaking softly to Damon so she didn’t disturb anyone. “Why does it help with the pain?”

“Some people get endorphins from enduring, rather like a runner after a marathon or someone working out. I would bet she’s actually quite submissive, but she won’t allow herself to practice in real life. So she finds her subspace in bits of time when the pain becomes too much to handle. If she were my sub, I would put her on a regular yoga routine to keep her flexibility up. I would get her out from in front of the computer and force her to deal with her issues, but she’s quite vocal about not taking a Dom even though I think Weston would accept her in a heartbeat.”

Simon put the vampire glove down and selected another flogger.

“Oh, he’s getting a bit nasty now,” Damon whispered. “That one’s pure leather. It’s softened up a bit, but do you see the small knots on the end of a couple of the falls? Yes, that’s going to sting a bit.”

Chelsea stiffened the first time he struck her with it and then after a long shuddering breath, her head fell forward. He found his rhythm again, moving to the music as he struck her shoulders, arse, and hamstrings. He avoided the spine, focusing on the big muscles. After the first sting, Chelsea seemed to go completely limp, her body moving easily with the strikes, but not fighting them at all. She accepted everything Simon gave her.

Charlotte was watching, her eyes never leaving her sister as she hung from the cross. Ian had an arm around her as if he thought she needed support, or perhaps he was worried she would intervene.

He alternated between flogging her and running the vampire glove over her sensitive skin.

Penny relaxed back against Damon. Every now and then he would point out something Simon was doing and why he was doing it. He seemed very dismissive of the fact that she was wearing heavy leggings.

Chelsea was wrong, she realized as she glanced around the crowd. No one would judge her. There wasn’t a single perfect body in the building. Most of the men had scars. It did nothing to take away from their attractiveness. If anything, Penny found she liked them. It let her know these were men who had fought.

Many of the women would be considered overweight by society standards, but their Doms seemed to like them that way. Chelsea had a few curves, but she wasn’t heavy. She was a pretty woman, especially when she smiled. No one would make fun of her for her scars. Not here.

Yet she clung to those leggings, even when she was willing to take off her shirt to be tied down.

Simon finally placed the flogger on the table and went to untie her.

“Charlie,” Ian barked his warning as his wife stepped away from him.

“It’s only if she needs me.” Charlotte moved forward, clutching Penny’s hand.

As they moved closer, she could hear Simon talking in low tones as his hand found Chelsea’s hair, stroking her. “You did so well, love. So well.”

Chelsea seemed to be shaking herself back to consciousness. “Oh, is it over already?”

Simon chuckled. “Of course not. I need to take a look at your back. I need to make sure I didn’t leave marks. Let me take you to the aftercare room and give you a good rubdown. You’ll sleep so well.”

Chelsea shook her head. “No. I feel fine. Better than fine actually. You’re very good at what you do.”

His hand tightened in her hair. “Do you know how much better this could be if you let it? Do you know how I could make you feel? Give over to me, Chelsea. Let me take over. You won’t regret it. I can make you feel so much.”

Penny wanted to move away, to give them this intimate moment, but Charlotte wouldn’t move.

Chelsea shook her head and started to pull at the bindings that wrapped around her wrists. “No. Let me out. I want out now. I don’t want aftercare. I don’t need it.”

“Chelsea,” Simon started.

“Get me out of these, Weston. I’m done.” Her voice rose, losing the dreamy quality she’d had before and becoming panic tinged. “Charlotte!”

“I’m sorry, Simon.” Charlotte moved in, her hands going up to untie her sister.

Simon stepped back, his face going blank. He began cleaning up, ignoring the woman he’d just lavished so much time on.

And when she likely thought no one was looking, Chelsea turned and stared at Simon’s back, longing plain on her face.

So afraid. She was so afraid. It was plain for Penny to see because she’d been there. She’d been mad about Damon Knight for years and she was sure she’d had that very look on her face a million times when he walked across the room, paying her absolutely no mind.

She had this chance. She wouldn’t get it again.

Where had Damon gone? She looked and he’d moved with Ian into the bar. The two men were sitting together, Ian’s brow furrowed, his agitation obvious.

She walked back to him, dropping to her knees and taking her place at his feet. A week ago, she would likely have been horrified by the idea, but it didn’t make her less of a woman. Kneeling at her lover’s feet didn’t mean she was a doormat. It was play and an offering of sorts. It meant she was willing to be what he needed her to be.

He looked down at her, his eyes widening slightly, and then his hand came out to touch her hair.

The power exchange was just that, she realized. She didn’t have to give up herself. She exchanged one power for another.

Penny wrapped her arms around his leg and felt him relax. He guided her head to his lap and continued to talk.

Penny rested against him, promising herself it wouldn’t be the last time.

 

* * * *

 

Damon petted his sub, allowing the peace he always seemed to feel when she was being sweet and submissive to wash over him.

Ian, on the other hand, was obviously not feeling his calm.

“She shouldn’t interrupt him. I’ve warned her time and time again. I’m going to spank her ass silly. She won’t be able to sit for a week. What’s the worst torture device you have? Come on, man. You’ve got to have something really good. You’re British. You still have actual dungeons.”

He let his hand play in the softness of Penelope’s hair. “Your sister-in-law obviously has problems that she isn’t ready to deal with.”

“Because Charlie won’t let her. I swear sometimes she treats Chelsea like her toddler instead of her twenty-seven-year-old sister.” He sat back. “Simon could do her a world of good.”

The way Penelope was doing him a world of good. But then he and Chelsea had the same problems. “It only works if she lets him.”

He understood Chelsea’s issues. He couldn’t allow that trust and affection to truly grow between them because it would be that much harder to break from her when the time came.

He wasn’t sure how he would handle seeing her at the office. What the hell would he do when she eventually found a smart man and settled down? Would he catch a glimpse of pictures of her husband on her desk? Her children?

He didn’t even want children. He’d always known he wouldn’t have any. The world was too cruel, too mercurial, to bring something as vulnerable as a child into it. No, he wouldn’t do it. Wouldn’t even consider it. Still, he wondered what her children would look like. Serious girls with her sweet face and smart mind.

Dumb boys who needed their mother to keep them in line because their father would rather play with them. Like he hadn’t been able to play as a child.

He shook off the ridiculous maudlin thoughts.

“Don’t spank her too hard,” Damon said, his eyes going back to Weston. He was cleaning up his scene space, his spine perfectly straight and not a hint of expression on his face. Poor bugger seemed to have fallen for the wrong girl.

Of course, he could say the same thing for his Penelope. She’d fallen for the wrong man. At least he thought she’d fallen for him. Sometimes he couldn’t tell. Sometimes he thought she might be perfectly happy to get rid of him at the end of the operation.

Until he commanded her to come to him and she went with such open willingness that he felt like fucking her was finally being home. Sliding into her body was like finding his place in the world.

Ian ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “I know. We have to get on the boat tomorrow and I need her fully functional. I thought this would be fun, man.” He huffed a little. “I thought it would be like a second honeymoon. Then you have to fuck it all up by having a crazy stalker asshole. Kill him when you get the chance because it’s screwing with my sex life.”

Trust Tag to make him chuckle. Still, it was easy to see the man had changed. He gave a damn about the people around him. Damon remembered when he was cold, calculating. Tag laughed now. He joked. He had a life.

Was there a life out there for him, too?

“What scene are you running tonight with blondie there? By the way, you look lovely, dear.” For all Tag’s crudeness, he’d always been kind to subs.

“Thank you, Sir.” Her arms tightened around his legs. “Was I not supposed to talk? Are we in high protocol?”

He hadn’t spent enough time with her. He knew it. He’d spent all his time getting his cock inside her and not enough time preparing her. “Calm down, love. We’re going in as a fairly new couple. Ian and Charlotte are going to pose as our sponsors. If anyone asks, we’re still feeling our way. It means that we might have to go to some of the seminars.”

Tag snorted a little. “I can’t wait to see you in Protocol 101 or Plug Your Sub’s Ass in Ten Easy Ways.”

“Why on earth would they want to make it easy?” A good plugging should be work.

“What?” Penelope’s head came off his lap.

He eased her back down. Actually, it might be fun to shock her a bit. “I signed us up for Extreme Figging.”

“I know what that is, Damon. You are not shoving ginger up my bum.”

They had to get a few things straight. He might not have spent enough time with her, but he’d been very plain in his rules. One of them was never to tell him what he couldn’t do, and certainly not in his own bloody club. “Over my lap right now.”

Her head came up, a gorgeous pout on her mouth. “I’m sorry, Master. I meant to say that I don’t think I would enjoy having ginger shoved up my bum and could we please talk about it?”

Not working on him. “If that’s what you meant, then that’s what you should have said. Do I treat you with disrespect in front of our friends? Do you know the rules about how to act when we’re on a dungeon floor?”

She nodded, already sniffling a little. God, she was beautiful. “Yes.”

“What will happen if you do that on the boat?”

“Damn it.” She shook her head. “And now I cursed. It would blow our cover or at the very least draw unwanted attention to us. I’m sorry, Damon.”

“I’m not going to spank you for cursing, love. It would be the height of hypocrisy. I curse quite a bit myself, but try to keep it to a minimum while we’re working and certainly when we’re playing. And yes, it would draw attention to us. So over my lap. It’s a count of twenty.”

“But I apologized.”

“And you can do so again after you’ve received my discipline.” He kept his tone quiet but firm. She was nervous about being in public. He knew damn well she wasn’t scared of the bloody spanking. He’d spanked her several times and every one ended in his cock up her cunt and her screaming out his name. No. She was looking around. Just because Charlotte had talked her into a new wardrobe that showed far too much of her breasts didn’t change the fact that she was nervous. Being naked for him was one thing. He was her lover. This was public punishment, and she’d better bloody get used to it.

Tag didn’t make things easy on her. He simply grinned her way and waggled his eyebrows lasciviously. “I’m looking forward to watching.”

“What are you doing, you pervert?” His wife walked up, her heels clacking against the stone floor. “Are you two being mean to Penny?”

He wasn’t having a bloody minute of that garbage. There was no way he was going to spend the evening placating his sub’s friend. He was grateful to Charlotte for befriending Penelope, but she tended to stick her nose in where it absolutely didn’t belong. “Tag, forget what I said about not spanking her. If she interferes with me the way she did Weston, I’ll chuck you both out of this club and you can spend the night on the street for all I’ll care.”

Tag reached out and grabbed his wife’s hand, and she was over his lap in a heartbeat, his hand raining down on her bum. “I’ve given you an enormous amount of rope, baby, and you are hanging yourself with it. Do you come between a Dom and his sub?”

“She isn’t his sub.” Charlotte’s breath hitched as Ian’s hand came down on her ass. “Chelsea isn’t Simon’s.”

“And she never will be because big sister likes to interfere. She had a safe word. She could have used it. What did you think he was going to do to her?”

The Taggarts continued, dealing with their family drama through spanking. He had his own domestic dispute.

Damon patted his lap. “We’re up to thirty now. Every second you delay adds to the punishment. We have a long ride to Dover in the morning. You can be as uncomfortable as your stubbornness allows.”

She nearly jumped in his lap, but then he noticed that when Penelope finally decided to do something, she tended to leap in with both feet. He had to catch her or she likely would have rolled right off his lap and onto the floor. He found himself with an armful of Penelope, and he’d been right about how lovely she would look in a thong. Her cheeks were round, and he couldn’t help but lay his hands on them and give them a nice squeeze.

He brought his hand down in a sharp arc, enjoying the sound of the smack and the little squeal that came after. He rained down on her, keeping a careful count. He’d told her thirty. She’d done her level best not to make it thirty-one, so she would only get thirty.

But he could spank her all night, really. He laid them all over her cheeks, snapping the string of her thong in between spanks. Her skin got a hot pink sheen to it and she clutched at his ankles, her breath coming out in sexy pants.

He let his hand work, delivering discipline to her arse and the curvy backs of her legs. He stopped when he reached thirty and held his palm flat on the last place he’d spanked, keeping the heat against her flesh. It was definitely time to get her more used to public sex.

There was a party on the Royale tomorrow night, and he suspected it would get a little crazy. He intended to firmly cement their cover before they got to Helsinki.

He let his hand slide down to rub between her legs, shoving her thong aside and finding the warmth of her arousal. He didn’t have to shove his fingers hard. They slipped between her legs, her wetness making it an easy glide past her labia and into her pussy.

Penelope shuddered sweetly.

“You liked your spanking, didn’t you, you bad girl? You liked having the nasty Dom slap your arse silly.” He fucked his fingers deep, finding her clit with his thumb and pressing down but not enough to make her come. “Thank me for your spanking.”

“Thank you, Master.”

“Thank me for getting you hot and wet and ready to fuck.”

“Thank you, Master, for getting me hot and wet and ready to fuck.”

To his side, he caught sight of Charlotte on the ground between Ian’s knees. His leathers were open and his wife was making up for her interference in a very nice way. She sucked his cock in long passes of her mouth.

It was a damn fine idea, but he wanted more from his sub. “Ask me to fuck you, love.”

She tensed. Not a good thing.

He pulled his fingers out of her pussy and smacked her sensitive cheeks again. “Is there a problem?”

She took a long breath and then her head came up, her decision obviously made. “Will you please fuck me, Master?”

Brave sub. God, if he had half her guts, he would be so much better for it. He helped her up, chuckling at the surprise on her face as she caught sight of the Taggarts working out their marital issues through oral sex.

“Get used to it.” He set her on her feet between his legs. “You’ll see much more on the boat. And no. I won’t fuck you.”

Her face fell.

He spoke again quickly, so she didn’t misunderstand. “But I would very much like it if you fucked me, love. Right here. Right now. In front of everyone. If you can’t do it, I understand, but it’s going to make our cover difficult to keep. I think you’ll like it. I want you to think about it. Think about all those people watching you. Think about how every man is going to want to be me, with his cock up inside you. They’ll all be thinking about how gorgeous your tits are and how lucky I am to have a sub who serves me so passionately.”

It was obviously getting to her because her eyes had dilated and her breath had picked back up.

“Yes, Master.” She gave him one of those smiles that did weird things to his insides. “I’ll fuck you. Right here. Right now.”